


Open doors for me and you might get some kisses

by bertie



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-30
Updated: 2015-04-30
Packaged: 2018-03-26 10:52:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3848242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bertie/pseuds/bertie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a lazy evening in Matt's apartment</p>
            </blockquote>





	Open doors for me and you might get some kisses

Foggy was always surprised at how well Matt knew him. He might be blind but he knows Foggy better than Foggy probably knows himself. His hands are skilled and sly and constantly moving. They know exactly where Foggy is ticklish and where he’s incredibly sensitive.

Like right now.

“Matt, I—” He gasps, then moans because Matt’s fingers are stroking along the crease of his hip and thigh.

Matt chuckles and sucks a little bruise on Foggy’s neck.

“Tell me,” he rumbles, but his hand is already sneaking down underneath Foggy’s knee. “What do you want?”

Foggy pushes his head back into a pillow and whines.

“Come on now,” Matt says, and he kisses his way up Foggy’s cheek and across his chin.

“Shut up, you just like to make me squirm,” Foggy snaps, and scowls at the way Matt grins.

His smile is what got Foggy in the first place. It’s so genuine and beautiful and breathtaking. But now he wants to smack him because he’s enjoying making Foggy’s cheeks go red and hot.

“Then show me,” Matt encourages him, smirking and blinking his clear green eyes at Foggy.

Oh, God, he’s so in love with this man.

He takes Matt’s offered hand and kisses it first. Matt laughs, his kiss-bruised lips stretching into a smile that makes Foggy go a little molten.

“Show me,” Matt says again, wiggling his fingers in Foggy’s grasp.

He guides Matt’s hand down and crooks his leg so Matt’s fingers brush low between them. He sees Matt’s eyebrows shoot up and his lips fall open. His mouth works for a minute before he finally gets something out.

“O-okay.”

“We don’t have to! I know—”

He doesn’t get to finish because Matt’s kissing him and it’s so good. He moans when Matt’s fingers get a little ambitious and cants his hips into his hand.

“There’s lube in the nightstand,” Matt tells him, and Foggy can’t get the drawer open fast enough.

He squirts some into Matt’s hand and watches him smooth it over his fingers.

“Spread your legs,” he says, and Foggy groans obscenely.

“God, I never imagined that would sound so sexy.”

He does as he’s told, and Matt easily finds his previous position. Foggy jumps but relaxes quickly, eager to have Matt’s hands on him again. Matt is staring past him as usual, but the way his eyebrows knit together as he focuses all his attention on Foggy is adorable. He gasps softly when Foggy relaxes into his touch and his fingers slide inside.

Foggy grins even though he knows Matt can’t see it. “You’re already a pro at this, Matty.”

Matt looks like he’s three seconds from a brain aneurysm so Foggy flexes his hips and pulls a strangled sound out of him.

“Come on, I’d like you to fuck me before I’m a hundred,” Foggy says, and Matt frowns at him.

When he crooks his fingers, Foggy’s vision whites out and he arches his back almost violently. He hears himself make pleading, pitiful sounds but he can’t even be embarrassed because Matt’s fingers are so relentless on his prostate. He feels Matt’s soft kiss on his cheek and turns his head for more but he moves away.

“I can taste you without even kissing you,” he murmurs, and Foggy whimpers. “You taste like sweat and sex and something I can’t describe because I’ve only ever encountered it with you. I’m addicted to it.”

Foggy reaches up and tangles his hand in Matt’s hair, wrapping his legs around his hips. He guides Matt in for a real kiss and tastes that special coffee he can only get at the supermarket three streets away. He may not have the senses Matt does but they’re working on it. Matt is getting better at not keeping things from him and Foggy has given up on trying to lie to him.

“I want you to come on my fingers,” Matt growls, his lips right on Foggy’s ear.

He makes an obscene noise, arching back when Matt presses up against his prostate again.

“Don’t touch yourself,” Matt says, brushing his unoccupied fingers over the crease of Foggy’s thigh. “Just feel everything.”

He pants and whimpers but forces out a pathetic, “Okay,” before Matt really goes to town.

“I swear to God you were made for this,” he groans, hips pushing down into Matt’s hand.

“I don’t know if God would appreciate you saying that, but I’ll take all the compliments I can get.” Matt smiles, his eyes flickering over Foggy even though they can’t see him splayed out on his silk sheets.

Foggy wants to say something else about Matt’s smart mouth, but his fingers press relentlessly against his prostate and don’t let up. He writhes, calling out, until Matt settles his weight over him and all he can do is tremble.

“I’ve got you,” Matt croons, his voice soft and gravelly and extremely arousing. “Come on, sweetheart.”

“You know I can’t resist you when you break out the cute names,” Foggy whines, his hands shaking as he buries them in Matt’s hair.

Matt hums and turns his face to kiss Foggy’s wrist. “I know. That’s why I use them.”

Foggy just groans; partially annoyed but mostly turned on. “Do it again.”

Matt chuckles lightly and leans down to kiss the corner of Foggy’s mouth. He nuzzles against Matt’s cheek and gasps as he massages his prostate insistently.

“I want to hear you when you come, baby, let me hear you.”

“Ohh, God, Matty,” he can hardly get the words out, there’s no air in his lungs, but he’s never been able to deny Matt anything.

Matt tucks his face into Foggy’s neck and sucks lightly.

“You’re close,” Matt says, nearly purring into Foggy’s ear. “I can taste your pre-come and feel your muscles trembling and hear your heart pounding. Don’t hold back.”

Foggy gasps and feels the tight heat in his pit of his stomach grow to a fever pitch. His legs squeeze tight around Matt’s hips and he bucks up into his hand as he comes. He says Matt’s name over and over like a prayer, grasping at his shoulders.

He doesn’t pass out but he can’t really focus on anything until he feels Matt’s lips on his face. Foggy has always marveled at how soft Matt’s lips are and it’s miserable having to avoid kissing him all day when they’re around Karen. He tilts his head and searches for Matt, making a pleased sound when their lips find each other. He hums contentedly when Matt licks at his lips and he parts them for his tongue.

“I always knew you’d be a great kisser,” Matt murmurs, leaving more kisses on Foggy’s cheeks and forehead.

Foggy laughs. “ _I’m_ a great kisser? I think you’ve lost your mind.”

Matt chuckles and kisses Foggy again. “We can agree to disagree.”

He reaches over to the nightstand and finds the box of tissues, bringing it over to the bed.

“Bear with me,” he says, and Foggy grimaces as he eases his fingers out.

Foggy helps Matt with the clean up and even leans up to steal kisses from him, making him laugh.

“Come on, Matty, roll onto your back,” he says, and Matt hesitates.

“You don’t have to,” he starts, but Foggy interrupts him.

“I want to. Now move,” he says, pushing lightly on Matt’s shoulders.

He goes easily, like he couldn’t fight Foggy off without breaking a sweat. But Foggy knows that Matt trusts him to take care of him and keep him safe.

“What do you want, Matty?” He runs his hands up and down Matt’s sides, grinning at his little shiver.

“Anything,” Matt says, smiling up at Foggy. “Surprise me.”

Foggy kisses him firmly on the mouth before scattering kisses down his chest and belly. He settles between Matt’s legs on his stomach, elbows bracketing his hips.

“Can’t believe you got this hard just from fingering me,” Foggy says before licking a stripe up the underside of Matt’s erection.

Matt tenses; making a desperate little sound that goes straight to Foggy’s groin.

“I like making you feel good, Foggy, you know that.” Matt’s voice isn’t as even and cocky as it usually is, but he still sounds sincere.

“And that’s why I love you,” Foggy singsongs, and Matt smiles, running his fingers through Foggy’s hair.

“Surprise me,” he says again, and Foggy nods.

“Yes, sir!”

Matt laughs, cupping his hand around Foggy’s cheek. He moans when Foggy takes the majority of his erection into his mouth in one go. His hips flex but don’t push up, hands petting over Foggy’s hair as he relaxes his throat.

“You’re so good, baby, so good,” Matt babbles, pushing Foggy’s hair away from his face.

Foggy preens under the attention and praise, putting everything he’s got into blowing Matt’s mind. He bobs his head and presses his tongue to the vein that always makes him go wild. Matt’s legs shiver and he grasps handfuls of Foggy’s hair.

Pulling away, Foggy swallows and strokes Matt a few times. “Are you close?”

“ _Yes_.” Matt bucks his hips up into Foggy’s hand and bares his throat.

Foggy leans up over him and Matt spreads his legs slightly. He leaves wet, sloppy kisses on his throat and keeps his hand moving, drunk on Matt’s pleading noises.

“Come on, Matty,” he murmurs, kissing Matt’s jaw. “Let go.”

Matt groans and reaches up to tangle his fingers in Foggy’s hair. “Keep going—ahhh.”

He comes over Foggy’s hand with a gasp and a quiet, “Oh, Foggy.” He strokes his hand over Foggy’s face, rubbing his thumb across his cheek.

“Thank you,” he says after his breathing has calmed down.

Foggy kisses his palm. “No problem, little duck.”

Matt laughs and it’s such a sweet sound it makes Foggy’s chest grow tight.

“I love you,” he blurts out, and even though they say it pretty regularly, he still blushes.

But Matt smiles, all kinds of beautiful, and it makes Foggy smile.

“I love you too, Foggy,” Matt says. “Let’s take a shower and get some dinner.”

“Sounds good.” He leans down to kiss Matt softly.

Showering with Matt is one of Foggy’s favorite things. Most of the time Matt will let Foggy wash him and Foggy loves it. Ever since they met Foggy has wanted to take care of Matt, or at least make sure he’s safe. He loves it when Matt takes his arm when they cross a street or if they take a set of stairs. Matt probably knows how much he loves being needed, and Foggy’s kind of glad he never brings it up.

He smoothes his hands over Matt’s hair, pushing water and soap away from his face, and Matt smiles at him. His cheeks are still flushed and his lips are red and kiss-bruised and Foggy wishes he could take his picture like this.

Foggy kisses him as he turns the water off, cupping his face in his hands. Matt hums softly, reaching up to rest his hand against Foggy’s throat.

“I love kissing you,” Matt says when they finally part.

“My ego is going to be huge by the time we get to the office tomorrow. Karen’s going to hate it,” Foggy teases, and Matt laughs richly.

Foggy dries Matt’s hair with a towel so that it sticks up wildly when he pulls away. Matt scowls adorably and smoothes it down as best he can as he walks into his bedroom. Foggy follows him, crowding up behind him at his dresser and kissing his shoulder. There’s a scar a few inches to the right, on the curve of his joint, and Foggy kisses that too.

“I have some of your clothes in this drawer,” Matt says, tapping the third drawer from the top.

“You’re the best.” Foggy kisses his neck, and Matt shivers, his shoulder pulling up automatically.

They shift around each other as they get dressed, pulling on t-shirts and sweatpants. Matt tugs on a sweatshirt, mussing his hair even further, and Foggy thinks he looks so cute.

“What kind of food do you want?” Matt asks, moving through his living room and into his kitchen with sure, even steps.

It still amazes Foggy how well he can get around even without his sight. Matt pulls a folder out of a drawer and sets it on the counter, flipping it open.

“I have menus for Thai, Chinese, Italian, and Mexican, I think.” He runs his fingers over each menu—braille versions that Foggy remembers watching Matt make one day.

“What do you want?” Foggy asks, taking one of the printed menus from the folder.

Matt laughs and whacks him with the folder. “I asked you first.”

“Ow, be nice,” Foggy whines. He opens the menu in his hands. “I could definitely go for Italian.”

“I think that’s a good idea.” Matt moves his fingers over one of the menus. “I want chicken alfredo.”

“Oooh, that’s a good one. I want the chicken parmesan. Do you want me to call?” Foggy asks.

“If you don’t mind,” Matt says, and Foggy kisses him on the cheek.

“Course not.” He takes his cell from the counter and dials the number on the menu.

While he orders for them, Matt gets glasses and utensils and sets them on the counter. Foggy hangs up and loops his arm around Matt’s waist, pulling him close. Matt smiles and tucks his face against Foggy’s shoulder.

“You’re so warm,” he murmurs, and Foggy smiles into his hair.

“Let’s go sit on the couch and pick out a movie. I found some more with audio description,” Foggy says, and Matt kisses the corner of his mouth.

“I love you, did you know that?”

Foggy hums. “I think you might have mentioned it.”

They curl up on the couch, Matt burrowing into Foggy’s arms, and Foggy reads off the titles of the movies he bought.

“Something funny,” Matt says.

They decide on a movie by the time the buzzer goes off. Foggy goes over and unlocks the door for the delivery guy while Matt brings the silverware and glasses over to the coffee table. He’s filled the glasses with ice and soda by the time Foggy pays for the food and locks up. They sit on the sofa, Matt with his feet tucked underneath him and Foggy with his feet on the floor using his lap as a table, and start their movie.

Matt slurps his noodles and Foggy finds that he doesn’t mind all that much. Sure, sometimes it can get messy, but it’s actually quite cute to see Matt with alfredo sauce on his nose. When they finish, Matt fishes a mostly-eaten box of ice cream out of the freezer and they eat straight from the carton. These little things are making themselves such big pieces of Foggy’s love for Matt.

Somewhere between finishing the ice cream and the middle of the movie, Foggy stretches out along the couch and Matt curls up against him like a cat. He listens to the movie and closes his eyes, but soon even Foggy can recognize deep, even breathing for what it is. He brushes his lips over Matt’s forehead, so scared to wake him and ruin his sleep. But he doesn’t stir, just sighs softly. Foggy leaves him alone until the movie is over and he’s starting to drift.

“Matty, I really wish I could carry you to bed, but I can’t. You know I totally would if I was that strong, but you also know I’m an incredible wimp and could use a few workouts. So if you can get up and go get in bed, I’ll throw everything out and come snuggle with you.”

He says this against Matt’s hairline, and he feels Matt huff out a little laugh. He kisses Matt on the forehead a few times before he even shifts and then watches the slow movement of Matt peeling himself off the sofa. He shuffles off to the bedroom, socked feet dragging almost comically. Foggy just smiles and gathers up all the trash and the glasses. He turns off lights as he makes his way to the bedroom and there he finds Matt stretched out on his belly in bed.

Foggy brushes his teeth quickly and crawls in beside Matt, kissing his cheek. His hoodie is discarded over the armchair Foggy helped him pick out, as are his socks—Foggy would know he’s always pleasantly awoken by Matt’s freezing cold feet in the mornings. But honestly he wouldn’t trade it for anything. The largest sum of money could not get him to leave Matt’s side.

“Goodnight, little duck,” he murmurs, stroking Matt’s hair out of his face.

Matt smiles, all sweet and drowsy. “Goodnight, Foggy.”

As they get situated to sleep, Matt somehow edges his way into Foggy’s arms and immediately dozes off. He breathes little warm puffs of air against Foggy’s neck and just listening to him sleep is better than any lullaby. Foggy rests his hand against Matt’s back, feeling every breath and sigh, and can sleep easy knowing he’s close by.


End file.
